


how to love your introvert

by smalltalk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Nonsense, bucky thinks he's an extrovert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltalk/pseuds/smalltalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>HOW TO LOVE YOUR INTROVERT:<br/>BY J. B. B.<br/>An abridged guide to finding mankind's most elsuive, self-sufficient wallflower, and (maybe) capturing their heart.<br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	how to love your introvert

**Author's Note:**

> if there are typos blame my /write everything in one go/ method and bad autocorrect  
> <3

**HOW 2 LOVE YOUR INTROVERT**

**AN ABRIDGED GUIDE TO FINDING MANKIND’S MOST ELUSIVE,**

**SELF-SUFFICIENT WALLFLOWER AND (MAYBE) CAPTURING THEIR HEART**

**BY J. B. B.**

 

 

  1. ******Be patient.**



 

 

 

> It’s quite rare that the average introvert leaves the safety of their own home in order to find peaceful solitude in the outside world.
> 
> But, and for obvious reasons, if you ever find a human in the wild wearing a turtleneck in any other season that’s not the dead of the winter vortex, you’ve probably just discovered an introvert.
> 
> Congratulations!
> 
>  _If_ the neckline of their vintage/hand-me-down knit sweaters presents no indication to their personality type, then, there are a few other things that one can look out for.
> 
> (NOTE: Beware of those who are only feigning to pass as introverted. If you attempt to engage in friendly conversation about music or literature with someone who only _appears_ to be bookish and lost in their own their own thoughts, and they use the phrases ‘ _but you’ve probably never heard of them before’_ or ‘ _their old work was_ so _much better’_ more than once- well, they’re probably not introverted. Congratulations! You’ve discovered the Williamsburg hipster. Notably high maintenance, and not really what you’re here for.)
> 
> You’ll find introverts to be the type that frequent the nooks and crannies of the city- some hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, or library with dim lighting and soft furniture, or family-owned diner that makes pancakes that melt in your mouth. In these places, they’ll be curled up around a heavy book in the furthest corner from the door. If you’re especially lucky, on a mild day, you might spot one on a park bench, sketching the people as they come and go, or just watching the world pass by.
> 
> They won't notice you at first, even if they stick out to you like a sore thumb, but for all of the best reasons.
> 
> (Golden hair is brushing over their narrowed eyes as they scan the pages of whatever’s in their hands that day, be it a novel that’s been dogeared beyond recognition, or a notepad with papers sticking out from it at all angle. Their scarf is hardly appropriate for the mid-July weather and you’re not exactly sure why they’re drinking tea when it's iced coffee season).
> 
>  _Now_ , quietly! Approach them with the utmost caution. Look casual. Like you’re casually just slipping into the seat next to them with your own book, when there’s a room full of empty ones you could’ve used just as easily.
> 
> Don’t overthink this next part. Refrain from gasping too loudly in the radiance of their perfection. (NOTE: this can not be done without some difficult, but try not to look like a dying whale.)
> 
> You’ll notice some small details right away- there might be something on their cheek. An eyelash, or a speck of acrylic paint, maybe.
> 
> Resist the urge to brush it off. If they let you sit within a ten foot radius of their being without suddenly getting squeamish, it’s either because:
> 
>   1. they really don’t know that you’re there
>   2. they’ve accepted you as one of them
>   3. they've decided that you’re pretty chill after all (which, in that case, why are you reading this guide? if you had any chill, you suppose that you would just go up and talk to them like any normal person, or _not stalk them,_ or find someone else to date because is this taking too much effort?).
> 

> 
> You’re doing it again. _Overthinking_. Don’t do that. You can’t both be stuck inside your own heads, or the right words won’t ever come out of either of you.
> 
> _So._
> 
> Wait until they finish a chapter or two before speaking. Another atrociously dog-eared page usually acts a good cue for you to step in with your prime flirting skills. Once they do, cough quietly to draw attention to yourself and slip into the seat in front of them. Introduce yourself.
> 
> They might become flustered, but pay no mind. Just, ask about the book. Ask about what they’re drawing. Ask about their day. Ask about _them,_ and mean it; introverts often like to lock themselves up upon meeting other people, and you’re here to show them that it’s not all that bad to be a little bit less alone. Give the conversation substance, because smalltalk is just another signal for them to recede back into their shell.
> 
> Ask them out for coffee at that new bakery downtown, if you feel particularly confident that day. Or a movie. Somewhere with minimal noise and not too many people.
> 
> They'll probably say no the first couple of times; introverts prefer their alone time to being out, so don't be offended if they don't sound interested.
> 
> Breaking the ice is sometimes difficult. Conversation starts off slow and dry, and sometimes it’ll feel like you’re the only one trying, but remind yourself that it isn’t true.
> 
> Patience is key.
> 
> Remind yourself that it’s going to be so fucking _worth it._

 

 

  1. **Let them breathe.**



 

 

 

> Okay, so, maybe your movie-dinner date doesn't go as planned.
> 
> Maybe you spilled some soda on their brand new shirt. Maybe you took them to a rated g Pixar movie and they’d gotten mildly offended, but not enough to speak out about it. Maybe you tried wrapping your arm around the seat to get it around their shoulder at the same time the person behind you decided to put their feet up, and you ended up smacking your date on the back of the head.
> 
> That's all perfectly _fine_. You've got this under control.
> 
> Now-
> 
> Be prepared to not be called back for a week. Be prepared for one word text messages and strings of ambiguous emojis. Be prepared for shy glances in the hallways and barely-there smiles. Know that _"I've got plans tonight, I’m sorry, next time?"_ means a book and a nap and feeding their cat, but that it's nothing personal, they’re not flaking because they hate you, it’s nothing against _you_.
> 
> People get tired of people sometimes, and this is okay. They’ll find comfort in being alone, even though they’re not lonely, even if you’d rather be together, this is okay, too.
> 
> If they want to be with other people for a little, or alone for even longer, let them. They’ve got other friends. Like that red-lipstick wielding one with the pin curls who’s probably already stolen his heart with her ( _ugh_ ) wonderful British accent. Like the one with the (frankly) obnoxiously winged Adidas, that carries his books around for him and throws an arm around his shoulders like it’s no big deal at all.
> 
> If half an hour, silent lunch sessions are what you’re permitted to for now, and two-foot long library desks are what’s separating the two of you- know that it’s not an entire ocean you have to cross. Just a flood that’ll take some time to recede.
> 
> _Understand_ that _introverts_ need time to recharge, and you're a pretty _draining_ person to be around in the first place (and, hey, you can’t help that fact either). _Understand_ that you’re an _extrovert,_ that you crave human attention, that you speak at two hundred beats per minute, that your humor is sometimes a little shallow and too fast paced.
> 
> It doesn’t mean that either of you are incapable of saying profound things, of thinking profound thinks, incapable of loving so, _so much-_
> 
> So when you ask them out for breakfast on a Saturday morning, and promise that you'll try to resist the urge to spill your pancake syrup all over them, they'll surprise you with a laugh and say _okay_ , _fine, only if you’ll stop bothering me all the damn time like a lost puppy_.
> 
> _I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me forever,_ may not be the most appropriate or reassuring response, but you’re all about spontaneity, and probably already too _head-over-heels_ , _catch-me-please_ in _love_ to care.

 

 

  1. **Silence is golden**



 

 

 

> The first time they invite you over is a thousand times more important than the first time you invite them over.
> 
> An introvert's home is their palace. An introvert's bedroom is their throne. If thrones are blanket forts or blanket teepees, or maybe just giant bean bag chairs.
> 
> Consider doing the following:
> 
> Take off your shoes. Be nice to the cat. _Be nice to the cat._ Don’t argue about the movie choice. Maybe you’re not an Audrey Hepburn fan at the moment, but they are, you will be, and they will fight you on that.
> 
> _(Sabrina_ actually isn’t too bad, and you’ll later even argue that _Funny Face_ is your favorite.)
> 
> Ask politely if you can sit on their bed, and don't be too afraid when they ask you to come closer ( _Go for it, dumbass._ ), when they curl up against you like a cat, when you can smell the scent of their shampoo right under your nose.
> 
> They're at peace within their room, and this makes speaking a little bit easier, so take the time to really learn some things. Like: how they accidentally twisted their ankle in a relay race in grade school, how they're deathly afraid yet completely entranced by all things supernatural, that their favorite kind of cupcake is white-on-white with rainbow sprinkles, that they hate bullies and hate having asthma, and love grunge and classical piano, that they’re a self-proclaimed old soul, and that they absolutely fucking _love_ Hamilton.
> 
> Don't forget any of it.
> 
> When they start speaking, let them. Don't interrupt, besides with quiet _mhms_ , and _yeah's,_ so they know you’re still paying attention (yeah, they’re _sosososopretty_ , but staring is rude in any situation). Don't hesitate when they ask you to not be so shy, hug them a little tighter.
> 
> Your silence is golden, and theirs is, too. It’s not a warning sign when they fall quiet. It takes trust to fall into a comfortable silence with another person, without forgetting their presence.
> 
> Don’t be afraid when they start to fall asleep in your arms, but know that you're not escaping this hug. It's a death grip. Just make yourself comfortable and get some sleep, too. You deserve it. Next time, you’ll remember to bring over more blankets.
> 
> ( _Also_ , the cat is probably an extension of their person. It won’t bounce back like your dog does, so don't throw it off of the bed when it pokes at your feet.
> 
> It _will_ throw _you_ off the bed.)
> 
>  

 

  1. **There is nothing, nothing more perfect than a night under the covers, a Netflix binge session, and a box of local pizza.**



 

 

 

> They’re not gonna be the type to throw a football around with you, drink stolen beer in someone’s basement with your asshole friends, they won’t call you _bro_ and make plans to unwind at that bar you used to frequent, and that’s alright.
> 
> It’s more than alright, because date nights are even better than rolling around in the dark against sweaty people for many, many reasons. The first being that you now have an excuse to own fuzzy pink socks, and an excuse to wear them all the damn time.
> 
> A compilation of the key elements to a date:
> 
> Wear your fuzzy socks. Feel great in them. Make them wear that panda onesie that they’re embarrassed to take out of their closet. Tell them they look gorgeous when they’re eating pizza, even if the cheese falls off and they’ve got a tomato stain on one cheek, because you mean it. Bring tissues for when the sad parts of the movie come on. Laugh a little at their reactions. Don’t laugh when they fangirl at Bradley Cooper: everyone loves Bradley Cooper, and since you do not, you will get punched.
> 
> That stupid jasmine-green-genmai-whatever-cha tea that you hate so much and they love? Learn to love it.
> 
> Share body warmth, because they’re always so damn _cold,_  and try not to let go unless either of you need to pee that bad. Walk ‘em to the bathroom down the hall, too, because they’re haunted at night. Don’t let the sheets go past their feet, because the rest of the room is probably haunted at night, too.
> 
> When their eyes close, shut the lights off and pull the covers up higher, but don’t leave the bed empty for too long.
> 
> A warm weight will settle onto your chest in that moment, when you realize you’re watching them in the moonlight, sleeping, like you’re some creepy vampire boyfriend. Something inside you- something pink and fluffy and warm that you’ve ignored for years- positively squeals. Don’t freak out. It’s only one part because of the cat sleeping on your stomach, one part because of their scrawny leg throw across yours, and two parts something else that you can’t quite yet put a name to.

 

 

  1. **I love you's will not come often**



 

 

 

> You’ve never noticed how much you’ve taken _iloveyou_ for granted until now. They are, and should be treated, like a rare, strange delicacy, only worth indulging on the right people. They’re subtle and scarce, and you’re going to have to read in between the fine lines to find them, more often than not, because the reality is that-
> 
> They’re not always said out loud.
> 
> It’s in the tiny gap between teeth when they smile, the crinkle of their eyes, the curve of limbs as they try to piece together their fingers with yours. It’s the way you find that you fit in with their friends more than your old ones, the way that they take you in with open arms.
> 
> It’s the sound of their laughter and the way they hum quietly as you speak about your classes, it’s how their cat slowly starts to warm up to you, how their mother’s old floral couch becomes your second home, and how they’ve got a sketchbook dedicated to trying to figure out the exact color of your eyes.
> 
> It’s the way that the table at the back of the library becomes the both of yours.
> 
> It’s the way you interrupt their tumblr scroll-and-reblog- _everything_ session at its peak, and they say that, _it’s okay, I’d rather be with you anyway._

 

 

________

 

 

"What're you writing?" Steve murmurs, voice cloudy with disuse and sleep. Bucky looks up suddenly from his journal, to where Steve is seated on the other end of the couch.

He rarely puts a book down once he's gotten himself completely absorbed in it, which makes Bucky wonder how long the other has been watching him. He's put down his hardcover and is now cradling his hands around a cup of tea, the steam warming his cheeks into a lovely pink. His eyes are soft and tired from reading in the dim window light, but there's still a curious spark that's trained on Bucky’s face.

Fucking _adorable_. Jesus christ. _There’s_ something Bucky won’t ever get tired of looking at, and he has the pleasure of seeing his face in them mirror every morning.

So he can't help himself; he leans over and kisses each of those cheeks, softly, until Steve blushes harder and pushes him away with a kind of strength that Bucky always forgets he has.

“Asked ‘ya a question…”

"Just writing a note to self." Bucky answers. Steve raises an eyebrow, and that could mean a thousand different things, but mostly that nothing Bucky says every goes over Steve’s head. "Don't worry too much about it."

“Didn’t know you wrote stuff, Buck.” Steve just huffs, pulling his feet up onto the couch and rolling over so that he can use Bucky’s lap as a pillow. “Can I read?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Bucky smiles down at him, but clicks his pen audibly and sets it on the coffee table beside the journal. Maybe one day. Not likely.

He turns back, and suddenly, he’s got a face full of Steve.

He’s memorised the feeling of his lips by now- walking the line between soft and chapped- only making it worse by taking Steve’s bottom lip in his own teeth. Steve groans a little when Bucky starts nipping at his mouth, crawling into Bucky’s lap and wrapping a hand into his hair, and that’s _definitely_ a lot more handsy than he usually is.

“What’s this?” Bucky laughs into Steve’s neck. “Mister _I don’t do displays of affection because they tire me out._ ”

“Shut up. I'm bored.” Steve groans. “Would you get back up here and kiss me? It’s not like I was getting much reading done anyway.”

“Yeah?” Bucky smirks, peppering little kisses along his collarbone and his jawline, making Steve sigh all prettily. “Am I distracting you from your extremely _gripping_ novel?”

“ _Yeah_ , yeah. Your ego’s big enough for the two of us.” Steve says softly, watching the twinkle of amusement in Bucky’s eyes mirror his own. “You know, actually. Those days, in the library, and in the cafe-” he says suddenly, making Bucky pause to replay the familiar scenes in his head. “At first, I actually was reading, but when you started coming by, I just needed something to do with my hands- you made me so nervous- but I didn’t want you to leave, wanted you to talk to me, I didn’t know how-”

“ _Steve-_ ”

“So, yeah, Buck, you’re real distracting, but I’m sure you’re self-aware of that fact, huh?” Steve laughs at himself, closing his eyes and sinking into Bucky’s lap to knock his forehead against Bucky’s collarbone. “You know how much reading I’m behind on ‘cause of your stupid face?”

“My stupidly, devilishly handsome face-” Bucky says into Steve’s hair, wrapping his hands around Steve’s waist now. “ _-which_ , by the way, I’ve been told that you absolutely _love._ I can’t believe we wasted all that time just sitting around each other like we weren’t meant to be.”

“You think so?” Steve picks his head up, staring at Bucky with wide blue eyes.

“Think what?”

“That we’re meant to be.” He says innocently.

 _Oh-_ “Well-”

“‘Cause I do. I really do.” Steve says more confidently, his lips cherry red from worrying them beneath his teeth for so long. “Is this me being too forward? Because I really don’t care, at this point. James Buchanan Barnes, I’m falling madly in love with you, and I hate you for making me say that.”

“ _Shit._ ” Bucky draws a blank, for once. “ _Shit._ ”

Steve frowns, leaning back unsurely. “I just confessed to you my undying love and that’s all you can say? Honestly-”

“Holy fuck.” Bucky gasps like a fish out of water, out of words, for once. “ _Not at all, just, what the fuck-_ ”

“ _Language."_

“No _, wait,_ that was-” He stutters, and then breaks into a wide grin that has Steve rolling his eyes all over again. “I love you, too, holy _shit,_ I love you, don’t you already _know_ that?”

“Glad you’re making it clear, now let me go-”

“No, no, get back here, you dork. I love you. How could you not know? You make me so, so happy.” He smiles so wide that his cheeks hurt, and takes Steve’s face into his hands. “Baby, baby, _baby,_ I _love_ you.”

“We clarified that, jeez, no need to wear it out.” Steve turns away with a grimace when he gets a disgustingly loud peck on the cheek (Bucky knows now that he’s just extremely satisfied on the inside).

“N _ope_ , now, how am I gonna _show_ you that I love you, that’s the real question, here, sweetheart.”

…

“I can think of a couple ways.” Steve _wiggles_ his eyebrows.

“Oh _god_ , did I already break you? And here I thought I was actually turning into _you._ ” Bucky cackles. “ _Score._ ”

“No- did you just- did you just _fist_ _pump_? Fuck you, Barnes-”

“Well, we’re getting there, aren’t we?”

“ _Ugh,_ no _,_ not _tonight,_ not _ever-_ ”

“Stevie, my love, my sweetheart, I _love you-_ ”

“I _get it-_ ”

“Never gonna stop saying it, good luck getting me to shut up, now let me serenade you-”

“ _Jeez, c’mon-”_

“ _More than woooords is all you have to do to make it reaaaaal-_ ”

“Alright, that’s it, we’re over.”

…

“You don’t mean that, right? Because- _mmf_!”

 

________

 

 **ADDENDUM** :

 

 

 

> It’s commonly said that _it’s the quiet ones that will shock you the most,_ and that _it’s the quiet ones that have the loudest minds._ You’ll learn that this is very true.
> 
> Sometimes, the “quiet ones” aren’t so _quiet_ at all. Revel in the fact that this is also very, very, _very_ true.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 2k of nonsense rambling and cute things and an obligatory innuendo ending because there is too much angst in this fandom  
> HAPPY VALENTINE'S TO ALL YA SINGLES OUT THERE, I SEE U  
> <3


End file.
